Always Left Behind
by Kintaraheart
Summary: Ganikar doesn't usually take the belongings of those he kills, but after slaying a brutal warlock who'd been terrorizing travelers in Ashenvale of both the Horde and the Alliance, things are a little… Different… As the warlock has left behind something entirely different from anything he's found on a person before: An elf child. T for violence.
1. 1 The Girl Left Behind

**Hello. I see you've stumbled onto my new story. This tale has been nagging me to write it for the last couple of months so I figured I'd take a break from my other stories to write the first chapter for this one and get it out of my head. I'm not one to whine for reviews, but it is nice to here feedback on your work. Just please keep the constructive criticism respectful. And please no flames. *Cowers* "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"**

**Enjoy:)**

Ganikar rummaged through the warlock's packs, finding nothing more than a grimoire, a pouch of gold pieces and silvers, and meager travel rations. No threatening Alliance reports, no orders from a superior, nothing. He took the gold and searched the body and found a piece of wrinkled parchment, creased from being folded multiple times. There was a symbol on it he'd never seen before. But the document was written in common and Ganikar had no knowledge of the language. He pocketed the paper and looked over the warlock. He suspected, due to the many rumors of this Human filth slaying his own kin, that this man was either part of a cult or simply a renegade, albeit a powerful renegade.

The vicious man had put up quite a fight when Ganikar ambushed his little campsite, leaving the hunter with multiple burns from the shadow spells and a few slashes from his Succubus's whips. The idiotic minion tried her hardest to seduce the Orc, too, but nothing came of her efforts. Ganikar was too experienced for the likes of that.

He called to his cat, a massive, white Frostsaber who he called "Ghost". The cat had been with him for years now and she was as obnoxiously loyal as she was white. This was why it surprised him that the sabercat didn't come when called but rather sat staring intensely at a bush at the base of a smaller tree. He raised an eyebrow at the cat, but shrugged off her odd behavior. While she had always been a reliable and wonderful companion, she was known for her odd behavior. It was even because of her strangeness that they'd ever crossed paths in Winterspring to begin with…

Once more he called for her, but when she wouldn't budge he marched over and tugged on her collar. "Come on, Ghost, we need to get going." Still the animal stared at the bush, and it was then that Ganikar became concerned. What was in those bushes? He, too, stared at the bush and felt himself tensing.

Then the leaves rustled and Ghost sprang forward with a yowl. There was a frantic swishing as leaves flew everywhere and then a high pitched scream. There was a person in there! "Ghost! No!" He was just about to leap into the bush himself when Ghost reappeared.

Ganikar frowned, confused. The saber held a small, squirming Elf child by the collar of her tattered shirt as though she were a wayward kitten and dropped her at Ganikar's feet. The child stared up in terror at the Orc who towered over her and let out another shriek before trying to dart away. But only to fall flat on her face, tripped and held back by shackles.

Ganikar's frown deepened as he eyed the chain the bound the girl. He picked it up, momentarily ignoring the child, and followed the chain back a few feet to the tree. The chain was wrapped crudely around it. He looked back at the girl who was still scrambling to get as far away from the Orc and his pet as the chain would allow. Then he looked at the warlock who lay dead by the fire. He understood what was going on now, and the parchment he found earlier only proved it. The little girl had been that bastard's slave.

He gritted his teeth in rage, seething at the thought of how heinous the warlock must have been, keeping a little girl as a slave. While slavery was common in the Horde, particularly Orcish culture, it was a despicable thing to hold a child as a slave. Children were sacred beings. He kicked the warlock's still body and heard a crack. Part of him wished the warlock still lived, he hadn't deserved an easy death. Rage partially quelled for the time being, he put on a friendlier face and turned back to the girl. She was still struggling in her chains.

Ganikar broke one end of the chains and carefully approached the girl. She stared at the end of the chain in his hand. He dropped it, motioned for Ghost to come near, and held his hand out to the child. She still did nothing more than stare, it was obvious she didn't understand what was going on. "... Do you speak Orcish?" He finally asked. Nothing changed in her demeanor and she gave no answer. If she did, she wouldn't admit it.

He didn't blame her for being so cautious, but perhaps another act would persuade her to better trust him. He took the document, the "legal" contract that was the Warlock's proof of "ownership", and held it up so she could clearly see the symbol. Her eyes widened in obvious recognition. Ganikar smiled, and then shredded the paper. The girl's eyes got wider and wider and a hidden smile spread through her. Now she understood.

Once more Ganikar held out a hand to her. The worried expression returned, her suspicions obviously flaring back up. But Ghost slunk behind the child and nudged her forward with her muzzle. She looked between Orc and Frostsaber. And when Ghost prodded her again she finally, nervously took Ganikar's hand. The hunter gave her the best smile he could.

He scooped her up, startling her, and placed her on Ghost's back. The cat gave a rumble of lazy protest to which Ganikar simply replied. "Quiet you." And they started for the road where his wolf mount would be waiting obediently.

There he set up a camp for them.

* * *

Nightime in Ashenvale was when things truly came alive. And unlike with most forests, the ancient woodland actually became warmer after the Sun was gone. The land seemed to thrive off of the light that the White Lady and the Blue Child fed Azeroth. It literally glowed with the magics of the two moons.

But despite the warmth the night brought, it was still fairly cool. However, building a fire during the night in Ashenvale was a death wish, just as it was to travel at that time as well. Camp was a must, due to the fact that they were far from Splintertree or Zoram'gar, but building a fire to keep warm could not happen. This was where Ghost and Coal, the fearsome looking (yet so very timid), black wolf that served as Ganikar's mount, became even more useful than they already were.

After stashing Coal's saddle, Ganikar began to pick the locks on the tiny Elf's shackles. It was a useful skill to have, though devious no doubt, and each time he saw the need to make use of it he became more and more thankful that Reftiel had taught him how to do it. It didn't take long before the shackles were off and when the girl was free she stared at her wrists and ankles in awe. The Orc sighed, concerned. He was happy with her freedom, but he wondered just how long she'd been a slave. Did she know no other life? He suspected that she must have had a life not long before since she seemed to know what freedom even was and she still had sense of how to trust.

He called over Ghost and Coal and had them lay down facing each other in the small clearing. This way they created a small circle of warmth. Ganikar took Coal, leaning into the black wolf's belly. The wolf curled around him slightly, giving him warmth and protection. He watched the Elf look at them curiously. Ganikar pointed at Ghost. The tiny girl cautiously approached the saber and was unexpectedly pulled into the cat's belly by a massive, furry leg. She panicked for a moment but it quickly turned into confusion as Ghost held her down and began to lick her with her as if she were a kitten. It was a priceless moment and Ganikar couldn't help but laugh.

After a moment Ghost stopped and Ganikar pulled some food from his bag. It wasn't much, just bread and jerky, but he knew the girl was hungry. And thirsty, he took some water too. He broke off a bit of the bread and snapped a couple sticks of jerky in half for her. He knew he couldn't give her too much food, she'd been emaciated and starved for so long that it could possibly kill her to feed her more than he was right then.

She hadn't hesitated for even a moment when it came to the food and water. She took them without question and began to eat eagerly. But she took her time chewing, probably savoring the food, which was a good thing. He had hoped she wouldn't be too hasty.

For the first time since he'd found her Ganikar really had a chance to look over her as she ate. She was tiny, not just from the fact she was emaciated but in height as well, and her long, straight, red hair created a curtain around her from her head to her hips to make her seem even smaller. She couldn't be very old at all. She had blue eyes, which was odd for a Blood Elf. Of all the Blood Elves, Ganikar had seen, all of them had green eyes. But then again, he hadn't seen many elves at all, being that they had only just joined the Horde. Perhaps this was something she would grow out of, he had no clue. She was also very, very pale and the marks of her enslavement showed up painfully on the delicate girl.

He cringed at seeing the marks against her skin and searched quickly through his pack until he found the healing salve he always kept with him. Carefully, he approached her. She stiffened with fear. He pursed his lips, clearly this wouldn't be easy, but maybe if he gave her a demonstration like with the paper earlier, he could gain her trust. He opened the salve and took a bit of it on his fingers. He rubbed it on a shadow-magic burn on his shoulder and let her watch as the salve healed his wounds considerably. He then pointed to her raw wrists.

It took over half an hour to cover all of the visible wounds and by the end of it Ganikar was horrified at how badly treated she'd been. Her back had held the most gruesome of the lacerations. Deep, blood clotted sores and rips in the skin on her shoulders and rib cage and spine. She must have been whipped. But the worst of the wounds wasn't even open anymore. Among the myriad of scars on her body there was one that stood out. Between her shoulders, on her back, there was a large branding. It was of the same symbol he'd seen on that document… And it made his blood boil.

It was hard not to angrily punch holes through the trunks of the saplings that grew around them. Suppressing his rage had always been a difficult task, as was the case for most of his kind. But Ganikar was one of the more docile of his kin, actually a bit odd for an Orc. He did not often go in search of conflict for reasons other than to put it to rest and did not give in to the bloodlust in his veins. And most importantly, he hated seeing dishonorable, despicable, disgusting acts of wrongdoing. It was why seeing this child in such a state drove his rage.

He wondered of this poor girl's history. Did she have a home? A family? If so, where were these things? Perhaps her family had perished, or she'd been abandoned, or maybe she never had a family to begin with.

He picked up a stick and drew in the dirt as she ate. He'd drawn the equivalent of what he'd seen of Night Elven houses. Blood Elves were cousins of the Night Elves, perhaps their houses were similar. He prodded the ground, drawing her attention, and poked the drawing questionably. She looked at the house and shook her head. No home. It hadn't surprised him. Next he drew a small group of people the best he could, and this time she nodded excitedly! So she had no home, but she had a family. Or at least something like a family. But where? Finding that out would be much more difficult, he knew. But he knew of someone who could possibly help…

They both settled into the thick silence of the forest, sleep lurking around the edges of their minds. Ghost and Coal were both seemingly asleep but sleep had yet to win over Ganikar. Eventually, the little elf fell prey to her exhaustion, curled up against Ghost's warm belly. It was then that Ganikar woke up Coal. The wolf had gotten to rest for most of the day, it was his turn now. And finally he, too, got a little rest, however fitful.

* * *

They rode swift to Splintertree, the child situated in front of him for her own safety despite her earlier quiet protests. She seemed quite content now, wrapped up in a cloak Ganikar had spent the morning making for her from a spare fur and a few scraps of leather. It hadn't taken long and it was comfortable and soft, and Ganikar had even cut slits for her ears in the hood.

The salve, the sleep, and the small meal he'd given her had done wonders for her overnight. The wounds on her back were closed, though a few scarred, and her wrists and ankles were no longer raw. She was doing much better now. So much better that he had even dared to give her a little more food than the previous night. And now they approached the gates of Splintertree Post ready for a wyvern to Orgrimmar.

Ganikar hoped to death that Reftiel would still be within the canyon city. The rogue was often there, doing whatever random thing piqued his interest at the time. But the man was unpredictable, one second he would be chatting it up with a barmaid, the next second he'd be halfway to Feralas in search of weapons of legend. So Ganikar could only hope he'd still be there.

It took a bit to convince the wind rider master, Vhulgra, to grant him use of one of the wyverns but eventually he'd persuaded her to allow them a flight to Orgrimmar. And after leaving Ghost and Coal with the stable master, he and the Elf found themselves clinging to the furry mane of a wyvern as it weaved through the upper canopy of the gargantuan trees that were native to Ashenvale.

With each twist, turn, and drop the Elf would tense, pressing her back into Ganikar without realizing it. At one point, when the cat did a slight dive to avoid an oncoming branch, she even yelped and Ganikar had laughed, even though he truly felt terrible for her. At least she didn't fight him now when he used an arm as a sort of safety brace for her as they flew over the Southfury River. The ride of terror, which really wasn't so terrible, lasted only a few hours and branched only a tiny bit into the afternoon, but when they landed in the tower in Orgrimmar one would have thought the girl had been subjected to horrors beyond the abilities of even the Burning Legion. She stood looking gaunt, shakily clutching the cloak in an effort to attain a shred of comfort. Ganikar would have comforted her, but he doubted she wanted anything to do with him at the moment and he didn't blame her. He offered her his hand anyway. To his surprise, she took it.

He lead her through the streets of Orgrimmar as quick as he could manage without accidentally dragging her. He was dreading the next part of their little journey. Reftiel was a rogue, and the place where you were most likely to find a rogue in Orgrimmar was the darkest place in the city: The Cleft of Shadow. All sorts of shadiness went on within the dark enclave. From Warlock summoning rituals to Rogue's guilds meetings and Shadow Priest gatherings. Not to mention the entrance to Ragefire Cavern was right there within the place.

The child visibly tensed as they trecked through the Drag and many curious bystanders edged closer to the pair. It was moments like this when Ghost and Coal were most useful, the two animals usually deterred unwanted attention. But this time he was left to the dogs of Orgrimmar with a child in hand and many, many judgemental glares being cast his way. He knew they thought he was the owner of the girl, a man like the Warlock. Especially as they entered the cleft.

At least the people of the cleft did not venture near. They were all too accustomed to shifty dealings and nefarious activities, they settled on eyeing the Orc hunter and the Elf child from afar, their piercing gazes branding him with shame. Even if he wasn't enslaving her or selling her or trying to do anything of harm to her, it still bothered him to be thought of that way. He was no despicable man, but no one would believe him now.

He searched the fissure almost frantically for any signs of Reftiel, but there was nothing… Nothing… Until…He heard that tell tale laugh and sarcastic jab that meant Reftiel was entering the beginning phases of a fight to come. Ganikar followed the sound of his friend's voice, made sharp as a blade by his Thalassian accent.

The Blood Elf stood near the entrance of a hut, and though they could only yet see the back of him, Ganikar could tell that his arms were crossed and there was a smirk on his lips as he awaited his opponent's reply. He'd seen the Elf like this many times before.

Beyond the slender elf, across a table, and flanked by his own friends stood a very aggravated Troll who's face was twisted into the picture of anger, with just a tad of hurt pride as a bonus. Oh yes, this had all had Reftiel scrawled plainly across it with red paint.

"What's the matter?" Reftiel taunted him further. "Can't come up with a decent reply? A shame… I really thought that there was Something in that big, blue head of yours. Would seem I'm mistaken after all."

Ganikar sighed, he would have to stop this before things got out of control and Reftiel got his jaw broken- Again. He needed that elf to be able to talk today, as much as the world would benefit from his silence. He stormed into the tent and grabbed the Elf by the shoulder. "Come on." He ordered and yanked him out into the path. He turned to the Troll. "You'll have to get over whatever it was he said for now. I know he started it, but I need him for a while. He's all yours later."

"You're an idiot." Ganikar told him as he marched the two elves out of the cleft and into the drag.

Reftiel pouted. "I'm the idiot? That Troll was the idiot, prancing about as though he's got any skill as a rogue." He huffed in annoyance and pulled his arm of out Ganikar's grip. "Everyone knows that a Troll is far to gangly to beat an Elf in the art of subtlety. The Elf wins any day if you ask..." Reftiel's green gaze had finally landed on the little girl. He stared at her, unmoving save for the slight twitch of a feathery eyebrow.

"What the hell are you doing here with that thing?!" He exclaimed, suddenly yanking them off the path and behind a row of tall cacti. "Are you mad? Have you truly lost you head?" He muttered the familiar long line of Thalassian curses that Ganikar had heard his say many times. Beside them, the girl's eyes went big. The hunter tapped the rogue's shoulder and pointed at the girl. Reftiel abruptly stopped. "Right." He said flatly. "Please have an explanation for the coming social mess."

"Look, I know this must appear terrible," Ganikar began. "But I do have an explanation…"

* * *

Reftiel leaned against the rocky canyon wall and crossed his arms, but not defensively. His face was masked with a strange look of near serenity. He was thinking, eyes narrowing as he aligned the information in his mind and processed it all. His gaze flickered to the girl who was watching both the men, quietly as always. Finally Reftiel began to speak.

The girl said little, each answer brief. But they were answers nonetheless. Her name was Raethia, she didn't know how old she was, she didn't know where she was born either, and the last time she'd seen her family, well her mother, was three years ago in the Silverpine Forest. When he asked about what had happened she wouldn't say a word more, and he didn't press her. He relayed what he'd been told to Ganikar.

"What in the world were they doing in SIlverpine?" The Orc asked, looking to Reftiel for an explanation.

The rogue shrugged. "Most likely trying to make it Hillsbrad, or possibly Dalaran. There are few places for those of them still stuck in the North to go."

Ganikar was confused. "But I thought that the northern part of Quel'Thalas was, for the most part, still intact. Why did they need to go south?"

"Northern Quel'Thalas is intact, but they can't stay there, obviously." The elf's eyebrow quirked in amusement and slight realization. Could it be that his Orcish friend truly didn't know?

"But why not?"

Reftiel covered his eyes with his hand and stifled a laugh. Oh, it was true! "You're an idiot." He mimicked the orc's earlier words.

"I've a feeling I'm missing something." Reftiel nodded, smirking.

"Perhaps you should get your races straight before you go parading a High Elf, an Alliance member even if she is a child, through the capital of the Horde. It's giving people the wrong idea." He deadpanned.

Ganikar's expression was priceless. The orc looked down at Raethia in bewilderment as if seeing her for the first time. "I feel ridiculous…" He groaned.

Reftiel put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't," He told him reassuringly. "It's easy for the races that are… not so involved with our kind… to mix us up. Though the eyes should really have been a clue. Consorting with demons made us this way, felblood runs through our veins. High elves are the… hmm… Clean versions of us. They are what we once were."

"Ugh," Ganikar groaned once more. "What have I gotten myself into now?" He mumbled. "What in hellfire am I supposed to do with her now? I brought her here thinking she was a Blood Elf and that maybe you could help us find her family, who I thought would be in Quel'Thalas. And only now I find out that she's a High Elf, and that her family is missing from the picture altogether!"

"Well," Reftiel sighed as he watched the little girl who was in turn watching them. "Cute as she is, the best thing to do is take her to the Alliance. It'll be her best chance at finding her mother, not to mention that it's a tad unsafe for her to be here." He swept his arms up, motioning to the city around them. "There isn't much else to do with her anyway."

Ganikar nodded. Reftiel was right, this was no place for her and she needed to be among her own kind. He would take her to the Alliance. "I'm going back to Ashenvale to get Ghost and Coal." He announced. "And I'll take her to Astranaar while I'm there."

"That would be for the best." Reftiel said. "Here, I'll walk with you to the Wind Riders."

* * *

"Wh-Where are we going?" Raethia asked cautiously from behind them as they walked across the rickety bridge that connected the tower to the rocky canyon paths. She still clutched Ganikar's hand, or rather his finger since his palm was the size of her face. The orc and this elf were the only ones she felt a smidgen of trust towards. Everything here seemed so threatening, like with the Warlock… She shivered. Years of torment, of torture and pain. Years of missing her mother and years of wondering why they left her behind. And for just a moment, she was still on that road in Silverpine, crying and sick, as-

"Ganikar is taking you to Astranaar. Do you know it?" The blond rogue interrupted her memories. It took her a moment to process his words.

"No, I don't think so."

The other elf stopped and smoothed her hair. It was a gesture meant to be kind and to comfort her, but she couldn't help shrinking away from him. He gave her a look of pity. "Don't worry, Astranaar is a town in Ashenvale, the forest where Ganikar saved you. Night Elves live there, they'll take care of you."

"Night Elves?" She asked. She'd never seen the creatures, though she'd heard of them before.

He nodded and smiled at her, kneeling next to her. "I doubt you have anything to fear, my dear." He patted her shoulder. She still shrunk back and the look of sad pity returned. "Good luck to you."

She was lifted onto the back of a Wind Rider after that. The familiar feeling of dread returned to her as she remembered the last flight. This time she would not fight the Orc if he tried to hold her. Fear filled her, as it had done for years already. The feeling was so familiar it overrode the hope that had blossomed in her just a night ago. But it couldn't smudge it away. And that in itself was something remarkable. Just the fact that there was even a chance to be free, to maybe even find her mother, gave her a new sense of meaning. Yet for some reason, it scared her too.

* * *

The hours passed quickly as they flew this time, much to Ganikar's joy. The animal had opted to fly above the trees rather dart between the branches madly. Obviously this one was more experienced, and it served them all much better. They were finally nearing Splintertree, the smoke from the brazers and bonfire drifting into the sky steadily. Raethia shifted against him, slumping to the right, and he had to catch her before she plummeted from the wyvern. She had fallen asleep some time ago and Ganikar quickly discovered that she was a restless sleeper, constantly shifting and wiggling. But at least she was sleeping at all. That thought made him smile.

But in the end he just had to remind himself that it was better for her where she was going.

He had surprised himself when he discovered that part of him actually wanted to raise the girl as his own. He had not raised anyone since his baby siblings were around and his mother was ill. Years had passed since then, but his paternal side still awakened when children were near. Raethia was no exception. And it took everything in him not to dress her up and braid her hair and get her a pet.

This was yet another thing that separated him from other Orcs, well male Orcs. While children were considered sacred in Orcish culture, Ganikar thought they were more than that. Children were a gift, miraculous beings who were the epitome of happiness and innocence. They were special to Ganikar, and to be honest, he didn't really know why they meant so much to him. Perhaps it was because he had lived his teenage years fearing for the lives of his young siblings and fearing that he would fail them as a caretaker, or maybe it was because his big sister had treated him with such kindness, always telling him that children were Azeroth's greatest mysteries, the most magical of things. That even the magic of the ancient Highborn Elves could not rival the existence of children.

Whatever the reason, it broke him a bit to know a child so small as Raethia had gone through so much hardship. She deserved better than this tattered life. And most of all, he wished he could be the one to give her a new a one.

They were over Splintertree now. Beneath them, the town stirred quietly as it prepared for the night. They landed just as the last light of the sun cast pinkish light across the ever-purple sky that would soon turn to a shimmering indigo with thousands of stars dotting it like spots on a midnight fawn.

He dismounted quickly and scooped up Raethia to make his way to the stables. Ghost and Coal greeted him and the little girl eagerly, sniffing them both furiously, taking in the scents of Orgrimmar and the forest. He fed them both quickly and laughed at the forlorn looks they gave him when he told them they'd have to wait till morning to come out.

He ventured happily into the inn and paid for two beds. Traveling to Astranaar would take all of tomorrow, possibly longer depending on the moods of mother nature and the elves. He would need to buy supplies first thing tomorrow, as well as some clothes for Raethia. But for now he could rest, and much better knowing that the girl would be having a better future now.


	2. The Huntress of Astranaar

**Man the drama in this chapter. I promise the next chapter won't be so dramatic;) But I hope you enjoy this one.**

**Also, thanks so much for the reviews, I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far.**

Ganikar had tried his best to find Raethia clothes, but the only things small enough for her to wear were the few pieces made to fit goblins. There was a tunic that worked as an extremely baggy shirt for her and some pants that worked as shorts… Well, sort of. But the boots fit her and he did manage to fashion a belt to keep the shirt from billowing all over. She would be much warmer that way, the cloak would help too. He looked over her and pursed his lips. At least she no longer looked half undead. It was an improvement.

It was time to collect the animals. After that, they'd be on the road for the day. He hoped there wouldn't be too much trouble. This is was still Ashenvale, even if he was traveling with peaceful intentions during the day and with a child. This was still a shadowy forest known for it's ways of swiftly, silently bringing death to it's foes. Right then he still wasn't sure if the forest considered him friend, foe, or neutral. Though he was bringing a child away from danger, trying to give her a life, only the forest could be the judge of him. And he wasn't one to try and decipher the spirits, that was a shaman's work. And sometimes not even one of them could figure out the meanings of the forest spirits... Elven spirits. But just maybe he could gain some favor with them, just enough to have safe passage through the woods this one time.

Raethia seemed happy to see the animals, she didn't shy away from them like she did people and was actually petting them. They seemed to like her in return.

The paths in Ashenvale were often times a bit precarious in more remote parts of the forest. Massive, gnarled roots that made it difficult to move swiftly and mountainous piles of leaves hid any rise or fall in the road. Not to mention the Elven traps that were hidden beneath those leaves, waiting for an unsuspecting victim. Ganikar knew the dangers of those traps very well. Years ago, during his first venture to this forest, he'd fallen prey to the complicated traps. There was no simply pulling yourself out or untying the web of knots and clamps around your ankles. But thankfully an outrider had been near and she had stumbled upon him before the Elves.

But going off the road was even more dangerous. The forest animals tended to stay back from the road, but the creeping spiders were sometimes only just off the path. Just as the ever-waiting Ashenvale Outrunners were. The Warsong Clan had outriders patrolling the road for just that reason. The Elve's outrunners were swift and dangerous, and though they usually were waiting in the night there were sometimes a few up during the day.

It wasn't too long before they came to the familiar fork in the road. One path continued on westward while the other branched south. The Barrens lay to the south. The harsh plains, gold from the sun, heat, and drought, clashed with the ancient forest just beyond the barrier of hills. He did miss the rolling plain with its massive plateaus and the oases that dotted the gold with green and blue.

He had grown up in the Barrens, along the Southfury. Life had been good for them. He and his siblings would hunt Crocolisk and go fishing as kids. His eldest sister used to make them all necklaces with the shells they found along the riverbank and the teeth from the Crocolisk they hunted. And when they were older, and they began hunting the Lions and Zhevra, she would fashion them clothes from the hides and jewelry from the teeth, hooves, claws, and horns. Ganikar had taken up interest in these crafts, so his sister taught him all she knew before he was sent out into the world.

When Ganikar did go out into the world to seek training and a livelihood he found that much of what his sister had taught him while he was young was very different than what was considered "Normal" by Orcish standards. Of course, his family wasn't quite normal at all. Ganikar was the eldest child in the family by blood, but he and all of his siblings of a close age to him had been raised by their adopted sister Nahtsuky.

Their mother had been sick for many years with some unknown ailment and their father was away working in the village at the Crossroads. So their family friend had sent her daughter to help them. Each morning Nahtsuky would come, she would feed them, bathe them, take care of their mother, cook food for their father, and each night she would leave. Yet as time went on and Nahtsuky became older, she stopped leaving each night and instead stayed with them.

They'd all been elated when this happened. But Ganikar knew there was something that bothered the young Troll about going home each day. He remembered the conversation he overheard from his bunk when they thought the children were sleeping.

"You don't have to go back there," His mother had told her. Her condition was steadily becoming better and at long last she could talk. "They have no right to subject you to such dark things."

Nahtsuky nodded as she wrung her hands. "I don't understand how my mother can let dis happen." She plopped down into a chair. "It's disgusting, dark magic. I would even pick Arcane over dis! While I'm no fan of twisted magic, no matter da kind, I'd much rather him be mastering Arcane or Frost magic, Fire magic even, dan consorting wit demons."

His mother nodded. "Have people learned nothing after dealing with the legion? Has the plight of the Orcs and the destruction of Draenor taught them NOTHING?"

"Dey swear dey be doing good, dat dey fight da legion, use demons against deir own kind. I don't buy a word of it."

That conversation had sparked a dark curiosity in Ganikar. He just had to know what was going on. He was loyal to the core. He wasn't about to let anything bother the woman who helped raise him.

It was on one of the rare days she ventured to her home in Razor Hill that Ganikar followed her. He had smeared ruddy clay from the riverbank across his skin and through his hair so that he would better stay hidden. It was hard to tail the Shaman-in-training, she was very aware of her surroundings. But he was a Hunter-to-be, and where she had her skills, he had his own. He managed to pull it off.

However, in the end, he regretted following at all.

Hiding in a patch of shrubs and cacti just beneath a cloth covered window he eavesdropped on the conversation inside, but only to find himself unable to understand a single word. The whole conversation was in Zandali. Yet… It would be a waste of effort to simply leave now, or just sit beneath the window pointlessly. He gingerly, shakily, picked up the bottom corner of the thin cloth and peeked into the house.

Nahtsuky stood in the center of the room, glaring straight into the face of a woman only a few years older than she. Another shaman it seemed. She snarled something low and the other woman snickered something in return and pointed to a young man sitting in the corner reading from a strange looking tome. Dark symbols swirled across its cover, the unknown words swimming across the leather that bound the book. Runes flared and gleamed to illuminate the Troll's skin. His eyes flared with the texts, shining with shadowy ambition every time the runes blazed and pulsed.

Warning bells surged through Ganikar's adolescent form. Fear stormed him as the enemy and began to cloud his mind. _Evil._ Something whispered. _Dark, wrong._ He shuddered and then the word came to him, whispered in an ever quiet tone, as if afraid that the Troll, or perhaps the book, would hear. _Warlock…_

But he didn't look away. He could not let fear snuff him out like rain a weakly burning brazier. And then horror struck. The man's eyes, now discolored by the wickedness of the book and its sorcery, floated away from the pages to meet Ganikar's own brown ones. The boy's gaze was held there. No matter how he tried to look away, no matter how frantically he willed himself to flee, he was locked into that stare. And the Warlock grinned nefariously.

There was a vile laugh from behind him and then a sharp burning sting as a ball of felfire was hurled into his calf. He screamed, jolting in agony, and turned to flee. The attack had freed him of whatever spell the Warlock had previously held him under, in the very least. But now he had to face the minion.

The fiery little imp danced mockingly on two nimble, uninjured legs and prepared to launch another foul ball of demon's fire at him. The young Orc wasted no time in trying to limp away from the creature on his good leg.

He cursed himself as he fled. _Why did I have to leave my bow at home? Why did I ever come in the first place? Nahtsuky is more than prepared to deal with this. But that Warlock is causing her distress… It's not right._

After two hours of strangled effort at half-dragging himself back, he finally laid eyes on the Southfury River. Then came the next issue: Crossing it with an injured leg and nothing to defend himself with. It was a useless, stupid thing to try and cross. That he knew.

He threw himself against a nearby boulder in frustration. His house was just across the river and then a short walk south! If he were younger, he might have cried. If he were older, he might have taken the road and crossed the bridge like a sensible Orc. Hell, if he'd been smart he would have never even medled with Nahstuky's business. But he had been none of those things at the time and now he was stuck alone in the desert futilely trying to keep sand out of the wound in his leg.

A hand came down on his shoulder and the light of the White Lady was blocked by a familiar silhouette. Nahtsuky peered down at him with a slim smile. "You're a good boy, Ganik." She said, calling him by his nickname. "Better dan my own brother." He thought he heard her mutter after that. "Lemme see ya leg."

She cleaned out the sand with water from the river, taking a moment to scrub away the rest of the mud and clay from earlier as well, and healed up his leg. Then she took him across the river, poking and prodding and stabbing any Crocolisks who dared challenge them.

And all was well that night.

But only a few months after that Nahtsuky heard the call of the Elements, and she had no choice but to heed it. She left after that, disappearing into the wilds of Azeroth. Ganikar raised his younger siblings after that. Before long they were grown enough to take care of themselves. And before long, Ganikar set out into the world too.

At first, he set out after Nahtsuky. But he couldn't search for her forever so as he traveled and hunted he hoped to someday see her.

He never did find her.

The Falfarren River was swollen this time of year. The spring rains and the melting snow poured down the sides of Mount Hyjal and into the forest, filling the rivers and rejuvenating the land.

They sat upon a fallen log to eat their lunch. He had managed to buy some dried fruit for Raethia back in Splintertree. He was steadily giving her more food each meal in an effort to bring her back to a normal state of health. He hoped the Night Elves would be mindful of her health and not shock her system with a large meal. But he had faith in the Elves, they were ancient creatures, their society filled to the brim with knowledge. Almost to the point where it was unhealthy.

Wisdom and knowledge were, in fact, two very different things. It was like comparing an apprentice of a craft to the master. The apprentice might have _knowledge_ of the craft, might know the facts and the instructions, but the master had the _wisdom_. The master knew how to follow through with those instructions, the master knew why those facts were important, the master had the experience. The master was wise.

The Night Elves knew many things, but few of their kind were wise enough not to become arrogant pricks. Few of their kind bothered to venture beyond their secluded forests and make use of that knowledge.

He hoped that someone would also be wise enough to know how to help Raethia recover. Maybe even help her find her mother.

Ganikar wondered what the girl's mother was like. Her father too. Reftiel hadn't mentioned anything about the father. Perhaps they had been going to join him when they became separated, or maybe he was still in Quel'Thalas. The hunter pursed his lips, knowing that it was much too optimistic to think that way. Azeroth was anything but steady and secure, the world was constantly attempting to shake away enemies like a dog does fleas.

It was more than likely that the man was no longer among the living. Possibly not even among the dead.

He didn't know much about Blood Elves or High Elves, but he did know about the Fall of Quel'Thalas. Everyone knew about the Scourge invasion that destroyed the Elven kingdom and killed ninety percent of the population only just half a decade ago. He also knew that most of it's survivors were as twisted as the wrecked remains of their land. And that the Alliance had thrown them out.

Now the razed kingdom's last, rejected children had come straggling to the Horde's doorstep as gracefully as they could manage, clinging to the hope that Sylvanas Windrunner's ties to Orgrimmar brought them.

Raethia quietly hummed a familiar tune, it was one that Ganikar recognized from Reftiel. The rogue, too, hummed that same tune. He wondered of its significance.

Up above them he could see birds flit through the pinkish sky. The sun was only an hour or so from its peak. Time to get moving. They finished their meal, prepared the animals, and left the serene river banks behind.

They had barely begun to gather speed when an arrow split through the air not far from Coal's head. The wolf yelped and ground to a halt on the gravelly road. Ganikar dismounted quick, his own bow at the ready, arrow notched and all.

He swiveled around, his experienced gaze checking each hiding place as he turned. There _appeared_ to be no one, but Ganikar wasn't a novice. He knew what lay in hiding. _Outrunners…_ He cursed and kept his bow drawn as he made his way over to Raethia. "Show yourself, forest dweller, I mean no harm. But I will not hesitate to put an arrow through your skull if you choose to shoot at us again."

There was a sudden rustle of leaves and a small thunk from behind them but Ganikar didn't look back. It was a distraction, a tactic he had used many times himself.

"Too smart for that ploy I see." Came the smooth, songlike voice of a woman-elf. It was sharp, the words spoken evenly with no trace of fear or nervousness."You have what many of your kind lack."

Ganikar frowned. "First you shoot at me and now you insult my kin after I tell you I mean no harm? You tempt me to put aside my promise of peace. You also have failed to comply with my request; Show yourself."

"Do you take me for a fool, Orc?" She spat the last word vigorously.

"No, not at all, I simply ask you show yourself."

"You ask too much."

_Battlescarred_ was the first word that came to mind after her reply. Her voice had nearly faltered on those words, so heavy they were with underlying hurt. She carried a burden. He would not press her further for an appearance. "Perhaps I could request something else then?" He asked.

There was hesitation. "Speak." She finally commanded.

"I know that you have to have heard about the Warlock who was haunting these roads, killing my brothers and your sisters alike. I also know that you have to have noticed that the killings have ceased at last." When she did not reply he continued. "Now, do you see this child? Her name is Raethia. I found her chained to a tree, a slave to that fool of a Warlock, after I slew him." His voice became a growl.

The huntress failed at masking the small sound of horror and surprise that escaped her throat. She recovered with a graceful cough.

"I at first thought Raethia to be a Blood Elf, but I was corrected by a friend and informed that she is actually a High Elf. I would take care of the girl myself, but she does not belong in a city of Orcs who would forever despise her over a stupid faction rivalry. I'd rather her grow up among other Elves. That is why I ask that you tell your sisters to grant us a safe passage to Astranaar, just for this one day."

Once more she hesitated. "... Orc," She began. "Never have I found your race to be trustworthy or kindhearted and never would I help one of _your_ kind, but for the sake of this child I will let you pass through. But be warned, don't you dare think that this means you can come parading through our homeland as you please because I will not give a sliver of thought to who you are, or what you have done, as you fall to my arrows."

Ganikar's frown deepened and he held his bow with even more attention than before, his hands gripping it fiercely. That damned Outrunner had better be thankful that it wasn't another Orc she was talking to. "We thank you, Night Elf, for your understanding." He ground out.

"Yes, yes. And one more thing… I will be watching… Now begone."

At least that haughty bitch had been true to her word. Not a soul bothered them as they rode along the rocky paths. Hour after hour passed and the forest was the quietest Ganikar had ever seen it. Even as they passed the Raynewood Retreat and Raynewood Tower they were left alone. Only once did they cross paths with more than birds when a small doe darted across the road.

It was late in the evening by the time they reached Astranaar. The sun had already set and the pink sky was settling toward indigo once more. Raethia had been tense for the entire ride but was especially rigid toward the end. The night spooked her, and it appeared that Night Elves did as well. She stared wide eyed at the two guards and hid a little behind Ganikar who patted her head.

The guards started forward, weapons readied. They opened their mouths to shout at them, but with a woosh a new figure stood before them. She was tall, taller than Ganikar, with lavender hair that fell to her waist. Her skin was similar to her hair in color and her face was sharp. _The Outrunner…_

She spoke to the sentinels in a clipped tone, not very different from the one she'd used to with Ganikar. Was she always this way? He wondered.

The sentinels' eyes had found their way back behind the Outrunner to look at Ganikar and Raethia. And finally, looking quite dejected, they lowered their weapons and sulked back to their posts.

"Follow," The huntress commanded, bow still in hand. "Don't make me regret this."

Silently, nervously, they did. And Raethia, to his surprise, clutched his hand the entire way. The people of Astranaar scowled openly at them the entire time, and not just at Ganikar but Raethia too. This puzzled him. Why were they being so harsh toward a little girl, and to one who was an elf too?

More guards came, along with a few others who looked to be figures of superiority. Once more the Outrunner spoke for them, and still she kept her hard tone. She then turned to Ganikar. "Give the girl to me."

Reluctantly, he nudged Raethia forward. The Outrunner took her hand with surprising gentleness and lead her to the other elves. Still, even after she was away from the 'Monstrous Orc' they scowled at her. More speaking, this time from a man. His words were very obviously filled with venom. The Outrunner barked something at him coldly and pulled Raethia back. Ganikar's hand went to the dagger at his hip and Ghost and Coal tensed as he did. Something was not right if the huntress was acting this way.

Then he understood why the other elves were acting this way. Raethia was a High Elf, looked down upon by Horde and Alliance alike. The Night Elves had exiled her kind from their lands thousands of years ago, and it was clear by their actions they weren't ready to allow any of them back yet. Even a harmless girl.

A woman in regal armor stepped forward and leaned down next to Raethia. She said something that made the small girl's ears droop. And that was it for Ganikar. He marched forward rigidly and despite the Outrunner's protests allowed Raethia to flee to him. One of the figures called out to the sentinels. They were instantly surrounded by at least twenty battle-ready women.

The huntress was in the middle of a furious argument, trying to calm the sentinels and the leaders of the settlement. It wasn't working at all. The was another barking call to the sentinels and they began to close in around them.

The Outrunner whirled around to Ganikar. "Go!" She shouted. "Get away before they kill you both!"

Ganikar was shocked, not just by her mercy towards them but also by the fact that they were willing to kill Raethia! He Picked up Raethia and placed her on Coal's back. They ran for the archway that marked the way out.

Ganikar heard a sharp cry from behind him and he looked over his shoulder to see the huntress holding her side where an arrow had grazed her. Guilt scorned him at the thought of leaving her behind, bitchy Night Elf or not he just couldn't leave her, she'd helped them.

"Go," He patted Ghost on the butt and sent both his companions off with Raethia. "I will come soon! Wait for my by the gate!" He yelled to them and then he darted back into the fray.

Arrow after arrow from his bow. He cut down at least four the sentinels closest to the huntress and dragged her to her feet to pull her from the town. Blood poured down Ganikar's chest and arms where he held her up to guide her along. She'd managed to acquire three more arrows, these ones going straight through her abdomen. They 'd gone right through her.

"What… are you doing… Orc?" She panted. Her accent was thick in her voice.

"Saving your sorry ass, huntress. " He replied. "Now don't talk."

The angry shouts behind them sounded closer. It was time for desperate measures. He scooped the huntress up from the ground, more willing to risk her clawing his face off than having himself beheaded by a bunch of prejudice, psychotic sentinels.

Coal and Ghost were waiting just across the bridge, as told. Raethia was still sitting upon Ghost's back, but she was crying now, tears streaming down her little cheeks. Another twinge of guilt ripped through Ganikar's chest.

Quick as he could he placed the now groggy huntress in the saddle and climbed up. "Orc…?" She started to ask him something but her eyes rolled back in her head and she was out.

There was no time to waste. Their lives depended on Ganikar's skill, especially the huntress's life. They raced down the road away from the town and the mob of angry elves. Eventually the elves stopped following, but that didn't leave them out of danger. More outrunners would be waiting in the forest now that night had fallen. He just hoped that they would be even a little reluctant to attack one of their own.

He lead Ghost and Coal off the road into a small, well-hidden clearing. He'd used the spot once before when he'd nearly fallen asleep in the saddle. A large tree stood at the edge of the clearing, it's massive branches forming a small circular nest-like area that served as a good sleeping spot. And it was thankfully big enough for all of them.

But he couldn't settle in to sleep just yet.

He propped the Outrunner up against a root. Carefully he grabbed the shaft of an arrow just behind the arrowhead and pulled the rest of the arrow through. He did this with each of the others. It was the smartest, quickest way to go about removing them at the moment. Then he went to work with the salve, first cleaning the wounds with water and a healing potion and then smearing salve around the holes and the tear on her thigh. Finally came the bandages.

He waited a bit to see how she did, during that time feeding his animals and situating Raethia. His work hardly seemed to be doing a thing for the huntress. Still she was breathing hard and shaking. A grim feeling fell over the clearing and it became very clear to Ganikar that she was not going to make it. He turned away from her dying form, unable to look upon the destruction that was partially his fault.

But then, "... Orc?"

He turned back to her, surprised. He came to sit by her side. "Huntress," He nodded his head to her in respect for what she'd tried to do for them, for Raethia. "I'm sorry…"

"Yes, I know. Things become very clear when you are at death's door... The veil of illusion is lifted." She said calmly, though her grimace and trembling body spoke of panic and pain.

Ganikar nodded. "I have heard that that happens from the veterans for they often tell the tales of their comrades who have fallen."

There was a moment of silence as the Night Elf struggled to gather her words. "Listen, Orc. I am dying and once i am dead, my fellow sisters will not hesitate to strike at you and the child. You need to go from this forest, but even by mount you will not be swift enough." With shaky hands she reached into a pouch at her belt and pulled out a shining white and blue stone. She shoved it into Ganikar's palm.

Ganikar was surprised. It had been a long time since he'd held a Hearthstone, having lost his own many years ago. "A Hearthstone? But that's your Hearthstone, it is bound to your soul and it will only transport us t-"

"Just listen," She snapped. "I know how a Hearthstone works. I also know that once I pass the stone will no longer be bound to me and you will be able to use it to save yourself and the child. SImply imagine your home and the stone will be bound to you and that place unless you change it."

He stared down at the stone in wonder. "Outrunner… I cannot thank you enough. What this means to me… To Raethia…I-"

"I know," She said again. A thin smile spread across her lips. Then she gasped as pain tore through her. "Ugh… My time is near. Be ready, hunter." Her words were clipped from agony.

"Wait huntress!" Moments ago he had not realized he would be so saddened by her dying. "What is your name?"

Using her last bit of strength to turn to face him the last time, her words were only a whisper as she spoke them, "Natavria."

And she was gone.

The roots of the great, gnarled tree wrapped around Natavria's body as she died and was accepted into the earth. And once the huntress disappeared under the earth a lavender flower the color of her hair sprouted and blossomed under the light of the moon, a beacon against the indigo, navy dark of the midnight forest.

A Wisp escaped from within the flower bud as it opened and bloomed and floated into the sky with a music-like chime. Half voice, half song.

Seeing that Natavria was at peace, Ganikar gripped the Hearthstone. He picked up Raethia, mounted Coal, and took Ghost by the collar. Once they were all touching he activated the stone, closing his eyes and thinking of the strong, secure walls and canyons of Orgrimmar. Bit by bit the vision in his mid materialized around them. The sound of dogs howling and people laughing yelling filled his ears and when he opened his eyes he found himself standing in the doorway of the Broken Tusk.


	3. The Broken Blade and the Decision

**This is a shorter chapter, but I felt it needed to be separate rather part of a larger chapter. The italics are things that took place in the past, just so you know.**

**Also, thank you for the reviews:) I'm glad if you've been liking this story so far.**

**I'm sorry for any mistakes in this chapter. Enjoy.**

_Leyranna Dawningsky trekked on, Silrandor not far behind her. The gates were close, soon they would be at Quel'Lithien. And hopefully be able to settle for a while._

_They entered the pass, the huge cliffs those rose around them beginning to feel constricting. If they were attacked here… There would be no escape this time._

_A sudden speckle of light from their lantern was splashed across the stone as it reflected off something off to the side of the road. "What is that?" Leyranna asked. She staggered toward it, marveling the beauty of it. So long it had been since they'd seen beauty in this shattered land._

"_Leyranna, no! It could be a trap of some sort-" Silrandor was cut off by the woman's cry._

_He rushed to the small woman who sat in a crumpled heap on the ground, her blond locks messed about her, her baby crying in her lap. He grabbed her and pulled her back away from the rocks to where he'd set down the lantern on the road._

_There was blood dripping from her hands. "Put that down!" He scolded her. "It's making you bleed!" She was clutching the shattered pieces of a broken blade and she refused to set it down, no matter how deeply it cut her. The hilt lay in her lap. Gingerly, Silrandor picked it up. There were words carved along the handle just beneath the half-shredded red cloth padding wrapped around it._

Raethiel,

My son may you make us proud guarding our people for the millenniums to come. The light of the Dawning Sky shines through us all, but I see it in you especially.

"_Raethiel's sword…" He said as he returned the hilt to her lap. Tears welled up as he remembered the man. And as he remembered all of the other friend's he'd lost as well. Somehow, Raethiel's death seemed to solidify the fact that all of this was so horrifyingly real, that all of his friends and family weren't coming back and now they had to leave their homeland behind._

"_This is so cruel," Leyranna sobbed. "So awful and unfair!"_

_All Silrandor could do was nod in agreement, like a puppet. He hadn't wanted to accept that this was real, not yet. He wasn't ready. But now it was being forced upon him and he had no choice but to unwillingly face reality._

"_I feel so guilty." She suddenly said, the calm in her voice on the edge of disturbing considering she'd been weeping just moments ago._

"_What? Why?"_

_She sniffled, looking more child than woman and new mother at the moment. "Because I'm finding myself wishing it was someone else who died in his place and not my Raethiel. Why Raethiel, why not another?" She started to sob again. "This can't be true! In my heart I was still holding hope that he'd made it back to Silvermoon or he would be waiting somewhere else in Lordaeron…"_

"_It is hard to accept what's come to pass sometimes." Silrandor rose and took the lantern again. It cast shadows across the already night-darkened pass._

"_Come, Leyranna." He said. "Let us go before scourge arrive. Surely they can sense us." The truth was he actually wanted to leave Quel'Thalas as soon as possible. Even if all they'd be staring at would be more plagued and broken lands, anything was better than seeing constant reminders of everything that would never be coming back. They were going to someone else's plagued homeland, somewhere easier to ignore. He handed Leyranna a leather bag with old runes embroidered along the pockets. "You can put the blade in here." _

_With a nod she put away the broken pieces and wiped the blood from her hands onto her skirts. The baby was crying once more. "Hush child," She cooed to the tiny girl. "Hush Raethia."_

Raethia? _Silrandor smiled thoughtfully. It was a good name…_

* * *

"God's Ganikar, you're a mess!" Reftiel exclaimed when he first laid eyes on the blood covered Orc after his return. "Look at you!" He nearly jumped when he saw Raethia appear from behind him. "And her?"

"I'm not giving her to those fiends." He growled at the thought of the elders in Astranaar.

Reftiel raised a blond eyebrow. "Care to tell me what happened?" He asked.

Ganikar nodded as they made their way to a table. It had been a lucky coincidence that the elf was there when they arrived. The rogue ordered their drinks, and some juice for Raethia, and Ganikar settled into his tale.

"My, well that was certainly uncalled for." Reftiel said after Ganikar told him of the elves' behavior. "What happened then?"

"I fled with the huntress and she died of her wounds." He paused and swallowed the guilt that was gathering in him. "She gave us her hearthstone to use after she died so that we could escape." He thought about the night-flower that bloomed from her remains and the Wisp that served as its seed, her spirit, floating into the deep sky above them.

Reftiel bowed his head and said a few prayer words in Thalassian. "She deserves a level of respect beyond what we could ever give." He murmured.

"The least I can do is honor her sacrifice. I've decided I am going to take care of Raethia myself. I will raise her, train her to fight and take care of herself, and give her the life she has been thus far denied." Ganikar declared with a smile. "But not here, this city is no place for a fragile child at the moment."

"Where will you raise her then?"

There was a pause. "I was thinking," He fiddled nervously with the end of a braid. "Perhaps you could help me with that part?"

"Oh, you don't know a place yet? Well, I'll certainly help you come up a good place-"

"No, I have a place." He took a deep breath. "I was thinking to take her back to her ancestral homeland. She deserves to know her own people and culture."

Reftiel smiled his usual lopsided smile that came with whenever something shocked or amused him. "That's very ambitious," The rogue said, still smiling. "But perhaps not _too_ ambitious. Yes, I'll help you."

He turned to Raethia. "Little child?"

"Hmm?" She looked up at him sleepily.

"Ganikar has taken it upon himself to take care of you from now on. And he thinks it would be good for you to know your homeland and the land of your ancient kin." His smile was sincere, without any other emotion but happiness this time. "You are going to Quel'Thalas. And I am coming with you both to help! You're going home."

The little girl looked between the Blood Elf and the Orc. "Home?" She wasn't so sure it could ever be home without her mother. But it was the home of her people, and it could possibly be her home too. She allowed herself a hint of a grin. "When?"

* * *

"_Where will you go?" Silrandor asked as he helped Leyranna shove bundles of herbs into her pack along with the many other things she was bringing. "There are not many places left for us in this world."_

"_To Light's Hope first and then west out of the Plaguelands and Tirisfal. Then south." She said as she began braiding little Raethia's thick red hair. The child was one year old now, tall for her age and already able to say more than two word sentences. Her red hair had grown past her shoulders to the middle of her back and her big, blue eyes watched everything with interest._

"_Ann'da!" The toddler pointed to the leather sack that housed the remains of her father's blade. "Can hold it?" She asked._

"_No, no Raethia, I'm sorry my dear but not right now." Leyranna hurried with tying the last braid._

"_I meant where will you go in the long run," Silrandor pressed._

"_Dalaran," The woman replied softly, thoughtfully. "We will go to Dalaran."_

"_But Dalaran was recently destroyed and they've only just retaken it." He shifted the contents of the bag around a bit to make room for the sack that held Raethiel's sword. It fit perfectly. "You know, you should have this blade reforged someday."_

"_Yes, I know that." She said, a bit exasperated with her friend. "But I've heard rumors from the Argents that pass through here that the Kirin Tor wizards have taken up residence in parts of southern Lordaeron while they rebuild."_

"_And?"_

_She sighed. "And I plan to find them and ask if we may stay with them until the repairs are finished. Then I will see if we can live within the city as civilians." She paused as she watched him fasten close the bags. "And as for that sword… It is better that it remains broken."_


End file.
